147
by Mejiness
Summary: There were 147 dates between the moment at which Gru and Lucy discover their mutual attraction to one another and their wedding. Though it would be nice to imagine everything is easy going and smooth during that time, the reality is often less than tidy and rough around the edges. Perhaps that's exactly the kind of beginning the relationship needed.
1. Prologue

_This is the first Despicable Me fanfiction I've ever written, and will be only lightly proofread for the sake of being able to type these up as the moment hits me and have a quick enough turnaround for upload. Though I know none of the characters cuss or are exceptionally violent in the movies, I want to portray a more realistic (As realistic as a story about super villains and super secret agent spies can be) take on the characters with a little more grit so there will be cursing, references or discussion of violence, and further adult themes. Won't be the bulk of the story, by far, this thing is supposed to be relatively light outside of character development moments, but it will be there. If these kinds of things bother you, you've been warned. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy what I have to offer up. This story takes place, obviously, between the rescue of Lucy from the super macho death and the wedding. Obviously._

* * *

The large, vaulted ceiling room so often dark and dreary was illuminated with natural light for once as its owner paced back and forth over the hardwood floor. His closet was fairly modest, for obvious reason, and was emptied onto the wide bed and whatever chair he could find to prop up what he had to offer. For once he was cursing just how monochrome his wardrobe was.

'Black is a good color.' he assured himself as he set the fifth slate grey sweater onto the pile of other slate grey sweaters. 'It's slimming.' a wary glance was cast to his middle, frown carving into his features. 'Slimming is good.'

Growling he turned away from the bed again, arms hooking by the hands behind his back as he began to brood. He had, maybe, two hours left and he was still skulking about his bedroom in his under shirt and a pair of pajama pants. Why did suddenly everything he owned seem entirely too informal? It was just dinner!

He began sorting through the few button up shirts he owned again. By now most were far too small or stained with some sort of mechanical grease, or bloodied… or singed. Each shirt had a story of some college upstart with a self-perceived sense of style trying to break into the big leagues. No more small time heists of crown snatching or bank robbing for him! He was going to become more than just a criminal with shiny gadgets!

A long finger poked through a jagged and blood stained hole in the shoulder of the shirt where he knew a matching scar was on his person. The thought brought a smirk to his face and he tossed the shirt into the pile that was now securely in the trash bin along with everything else he'd determined was outdated or just didn't fit anymore. Moving to his heavy, reinforced coat and thick sweater was the best decision he'd ever made. Functional and devilishly fashionable, if he did say so himself. A classic.

The trudge came to a stop when he realized that the functional fashion was literally all that was left. His coat hanging on a chair, a pond of grey sweaters on one corner of the bed and three black trousers ranging from plain to pinstriped on the other. Black dress socks as far as the eye could see. His shoulders slumped, jaw tightening as panic began to set in.

'Am I really that much of a bachelor?'

The door to the room slammed open, sending the man jumping out of his skin and stumbling to turn around and greet the sudden intruders who were barrelling toward him. Three girls, his girls, were on the move. Leaping over the bed to immediately begin digging through his things, hopping up to his leg where she clung and the third pulling along what looked like a body bag behind her.

"Girls! What have I told you about knocking!" he snapped, bending down to pick up the youngest of the three from his leg. She squirmed happily until she was rested upon his hip. "Agnes." he greeted her fondly, her arms wrapping as best they could around her adoptive father.

"Gru!" she replied, "We're here to help you get ready! You're gonna look so pretty!" her grip stayed tight on his shirt as he tried to pry her off of him and set her on the bed beside Edith who was currently sticking her head through one of the turtle necks, hands gripping the fabric through the material of the sleeves.

"You have such a big head." she exclaimed, looking up at him with a cheshire grin. "I mean, I knew it was big but being bald I didn't think it needed so mu-Ack!" she tumbled from the sweater as Gru pulled it up and back over her head in one swift move sending her rolling into her sister with a fit of giggles.

"I do not have a big head." he declared, heavy accent only causing his words to sound harsher despite the amused grin he cast the girls. "And I don't need any help. I am perfectly capable of getting dressed on my own. Without!" and he pointed a finger at the pair, wagging it, "Without the help of little girls!" The sweater was draped over an arm, his free hand waving Edith and Agnes toward the door. "Now go play. I'll be out soon to get you ready for bed." As he turned away from the two on the bed he came face to face with his eldest, bristling his spine at the sight of her. She was the one with the mystery bag. "Margo." he greeted hesitantly.

Margo smiled politely, adjusting her glasses with two of her fingers, "Gru." From behind her she pulled the black bag forward by the hanger, its silver zipper gleaming in the warm light of the sunset outside his tall windows. "You want to make a good impression. We found this stuffed behind all the raincoats and spare bomb casings in the hall closet." her head tilted, a sincere grin on her face. "I think it would be great."

"No, no, no." he refused, taking up the bag and unzipping it to reveal an old suit that was haphazardly shoved into it. The trousers weren't even on the hanger but heaped at the bottom of the sack. "I am not wearing a three piece to go get chicken fingers." the zipper was promptly zipped closed as the girls all voiced their disappointed protests. "No! It's too formal! What, what, do you think we're going to some sort of fancy spy party or something? Phuh!"

"But you want to look like prince charming, don't you? You have to look beautiful or she might not want to come back!" little Agnes protested, crawling to the other side of the bed as he made his way back to the closet to promptly shove the suit bag up and amidst the collection of junk on the shelf above the army of empty hangers.

"Yeah!" Edith rejoined, flopping onto the edge of the bed, "You don't want to be boring! She's already seen you in all of this stuff."

"Edith! Agnes!" Margo rebuked them, coming to the other side of the bed to join the rest of the family, "You're being rude!" her attention shifted to their father who was eyeing them all with a look of consternation, "But… they do have a point. Are you sure you don't have anything that's not.. well…" her hand swept up the ankle of a pant leg, letting it flop back to the bed. "This? You do want to look good for her, right?"

He sighed, shaking his head as he approached his daughters and took a knee in front of them. A hand settled on Margo's shoulder as he addressed her first. "I do, you know that but it shouldn't really matter, right?" his hand smoothed back her hair as he looked to his other two girls, "I didn't have to dress up all nice and worry about how I looked when we met and you loved me anyway. Who we are is what's important. Not what we wear."

Edith wrinkled her nose a bit, "Yeah, but you were kind of a jerk." despite the commentary she eyed him from under her knit cap, "I mean, c'mon. You put down newspapers like we were puppies!"

He gave the girl a playful shove in the shoulder and she flopped back onto the bed in a fit of laughter, the other two beginning to giggle in turn. "At least I'm not still a jerk, unlike some people I know." One of his arms wrapped around Agnes as she balanced her way from his knee back to his side from the bed as Edith sat herself back up. Margo also came a bit closer, slipping under an arm to rest her own across his back. "Everything will be fine, girls. What will happen will happen and you all should be hoping for the best, yes? Lucy is a nice lady, I'm sure everything will go over well."

"I hope so." Agnes murmured sulkily, resting her head on his shoulder which he took advantage of to kiss the top of it. "I like Lucy. I think she'd be a great mom."

"Eheh, let us not be getting ahead of ourselves." Gru warned nervously, "It's just one date."

"But there could be more." Margo urged, tugging at his shirt insistently. Edith nodded, launching at her father to hang from his neck, forcing him to sit more upright to counterbalance the weight leaving her laying draped over his chest with legs kicking in their dangling.

"Yeah! And then she can come visit us and we can hang out and get her to get you to let us stay up late and eat what we want!"

Gru rolled his eyes, picking up Margo and Agnes in his arms and circling them together against his chest, all three, as they burst into laughter. "Now stop that, you three, you're going to curse the whole things with your wild fancies." He carried the three to the foot of the bed, each getting a kiss of their own on the brow before he knelt down to drop them off a few feet from the door. "Now, do as I said and go-" Gru was forced to pause, head and shoulders slumping as he heard the voice that drew the girls attention away.

"Where is that son of mine? What is he doing?" the woman demanded in her typical tone of agitation to the chorus of babbling that followed close behind her.

"Grandma!" the three cheered, rushing to the door as the elderly woman entered the threshold with her own hanger and clothing in hand. She gave the girls a pat on the back as they hugged her, fishing out hard candies from a pocket to offer each of them. However petty it may have been, the other adult in the room found himself bitter at the candies he was never offered. Or, moreover, the candies he would be offered and then have retracted with the reminder that candies were for winners.

"Hello, mom." he greeted the old woman as she broke away from the girls to now stand in his towering shadow. His arms crossed behind his back again he stared down at her passively from over his hooked nose. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you tricked some poor woman into going on a date with you." she informed him dryly. Before he had the opportunity to offer a rebuttal a rather loud orange shirt was shoved into his face. The fabric was silky smooth, collar flamboyantly pointy and the buttons down the front only went so high up the chest as what would just barely be considered beyond the realm of tasteful into sleazy. It was something he could have sworn she had stolen from El Macho himself if it wasn't for the fact that the shirt was so tightly tailored that he could practically see the silhouette of her dance instructor. A man she so lovingly purred the name of Panther when he was brought up in conversation. A man who was significantly more toned and slender than Gru figured he would ever be able to achieve by fault of sheer genetics. Not for any lack of trying. If being an on the go villain never trimmed him down so much no amount of gym time would help him at age 50.

"I don't need your help! And I didn't trick anyone!" he barked, waving his arms at the four women and the chittering minions to shoo them out of the room. "Go, now! Go, go!" The girls squealed, running down the hall giddily and back toward their room though his mother needed a nudge and a push to get at least to the other side of the door.

"I should have known it wouldn't have worked! You have no taste after all! And that gut of yours has got to g-" her voice was cut off and muffled by the heavy door that was slammed shut behind her.

The man ran a palm over his face, pausing in just the right place that he might massage the bridge of his nose and try to work out the beginnings of a stress headache. The idea of cancelling the whole thing hadn't crept into his thoughts until that moment. As he looked over the dimming room, the messy bed with its dull attire, he realized he was perhaps a bit out of his league here. At the most fundamental entirely out of his element.

'Villains don't date.' he told himself as he began to fold the clothing into tidy stacks, laying them side by side, 'They meet up, banter and-' a hand lifted, waving in time with his thoughts 'Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am! And you're done.' Gru dropped to sit on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows onto the backs or his knees and pressing his face into his palms with a groan of frustration. If only he could follow his own advice.

Drawing his palms down his his face he looked across from him to the body length mirror, staring at the reflection of his face stretched out under the pressure of his dragging hands. He abruptly released his cheeks, slate eyes catching on one of the many pictures the girls liked to wedge into the mirror frame. 'I'm not a villain anymore.' came the thought, warmth carried on it from deep within his chest as he stood again to pluck the image of his small family of four.

'It's time to change.'

Gru took one last look to the clothing he had to choose from and sighed.

'Fuck.'


	2. 001 - The Awkwarding

There was something to be said about being punctual. Gru never liked to be late. In fact, he detested it and detested any situation in which he was left waiting. This distaste was forced to subside a bit since he took on the girls as children appeared to function on their own schedule, but he still was not a fan of it in general. There was being punctual, however, and then there was being nearly forty minutes early and parked around the block lest your date notices that, well… you're forty minutes early.

The car was hard to miss and though he usually saw that as a point of pride now he could tell the logistical errors of being so readily seen. As the criminal mastermind of the century, on all sorts of watch lists and he didn't mind one bit if he would be caught in such a monstrosity. It was bold, daring and very satisfying in all he could do with it to make the lives around him so gleefully miserable. When trying to hide out from a woman he was about to take out for a meal, however, he was suddenly longing for some sleek sports car. Even a minivan, God help him, would be more discrete. But, no, he was perched high above the street in a virtual tank, slumped in his chair, and considering his situation.

Gru tossed another candy into his mouth from the over-full pouch of candies Agnes had insisted he bring for Lucy. When the girls had seen him come to tuck them in wearing his usual grey sweater, coat and scarf over an arm, they insisted upon the sweet treat. Apparently it was the least he could do when he was so blatantly phoning it in with his clothing. They were making such a fuss of it, actually, he hadn't had the time to inquire as to how they had gotten into the very much so locked goodie drawer. The man released a sigh through his nose, sucking on a chocolate kiss and staring at the ceiling.

Lilting his head to the side he propped a foot up on the dash, slinking further down into his seat while he absently plucked another candy from the baggie. 'They at least had thought that far ahead, to get a gift for her.' he grumbled next, rolling a jelly bean between his pointer and thumb, "I should have at least picked up flowers or something."

"Oh, those would have been lovely! But you wouldn't have to go to all that trouble." a cheery voice chirped, carrying through the thick glass of the windshield.

The villain flailed, entirely caught off guard, throwing himself from the window and landing with his arms bracing himself on the passenger seat while his legs draped across the driver's seat. A hand clutched at his heart, gripping his jacket into his fist as he bellowed, "D-Don't do that!" his voice a higher pitch and sounding entirely too startled for his liking. "How di-" he paused then, thick brows furrowing as he scrambled to sit on his knees in the driver's seat to look down the side of the car where where the concerned redhead stood, window rolled down hastily. "How did you get up here?"

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Lucy apologized, holding to the side of the car and shuffling aside to let him look down to the stilt like sandals she was wearing. "I hadn't meant to startle you! Though, you have to admit it was hilarious!" she flicked a wrist, her other hand pressed to the front of her coat as she laughed melodically. She, too, looked down and kicked out a leg, careful to keep her balance by gripping the large car. "And these are how I got up here. I know we're not supposed to bring AVL gadgetry out in non-AVL situations but I just got so excited when I saw the tank!" her little jig she had fallen into abruptly stopped when she noticed the look of reserved surprise he was giving her.

Slender fingers tucked a tuft of hair behind her left ear, eyes downcast sheepishly, "I mean, it's not every day you see a giant tank on your way home from the shop. I thought it might be-"

"A villain." he supplied helpfully. The saucer round eyes and sudden flush of embarrassment that reddened her face had his insides turn to warm and fuzzy mush. Before she could defend herself he clicked his tongue, "I suppose, technically, you were right. Though…" he leaned out of the window to look down to the large black and silver G painted on the side of the vehicle, her face only going redder when she realized it was there. Slate eyes glanced at her sidelong, voice playful, "But really, it could have been _anybody._ "

She broke into the most awkward smile he'd seen and his confidence got a boost. Maybe he wasn't as rusty as he thought. This romance thing was always compared to a cat and mouse game, and if there was anyone who was good at stalking prey it was him.

"You do remember our terms, don't you?" he asked curiously, settling back into his chair and casually draping an arm over the ledge of the car side. "No gadgets or guns or anything like that. It's supposed to be a 'normal people' date." His posture was deceptively comfortable, voice calm and collected if not a little bit forcibly smooth.

"We're not technically on the date yet." she reminded him playfully, tapping the toe of her stilted sandal on the street. "So I'm allowed to have some gadgets until we leave. I do hope that means you're not hiding any ray guns or anything in that coat of yours, then. I know villains don't always play by the rules." Her hand patted the side of the car, a tink-tink of a sound before she abruptly dropped to the street as the sandals retracted.

"I'm going to go get ready! You're a little early so give me about thirty minutes!" she called up to him, waving as she hurried herself out of his eyesight and around the corner. He leaned out of the window to call after her.

"No gadgets!" partially in jest, partially just to make sure there were no more tasers hidden anywhere. Or dart guns. He didn't expect she would need to use them , on him especially, but she can be a pretty hair trigger girl.

Gru pulled the car up and around the corner, parking it in front of her apartment. Not until after taking the careful time to nudge gently all of the cars parallel parked on the street in front of him forward, of course. He finally threw the car into park when the looked like stacked cards one layered on top of the other and he was overwhelmed with a fit of cackling laughter. It never grew old. All the better was when Lucy exited the building and didn't seem to notice nor care. She was too fascinated with how to actually get into the car itself.

"It's like a tank and a spy van rolled into one! Oh, look! It's a sonar detector! And a demodulator? I've always wanted to demodulate things." she was bouncing with excitement, Gru having to settle a hand on her shoulder as he started the lift to take them to the cabin.

"Don't, ah.. Don't jump so much. The lift will jam and we'll be climbing up and down until I fix it." She only spun on him, pressing the fingertips of one of her hands to his chest, and exclaiming giddily.

"You have a lift. In your car!" Someone was a little excited.

He had to admit it was hard not to keep a grin on his face now that they were together. Her happiness was pretty contagious. There was a moment of consideration given when he noticed her attire; an airy tank top of minty green color with a black lace trim over a pencil skirt of a richer green hue and a tall slit in the back. The whole ensemble was topped off with tall, lacy black heels. 'That,' he thought dejectedly as he started up the car, beginning down the street, 'Is how you dress for a date.'

The table was set, the atmosphere of the restaurant relaxed and easy going. Everything would be perfect if he hadn't fallen into his default, sullen demeanor. Somehow he had tripped into a pit of despairing over something as simple as his presentation. He never cared about these things before, so the frustration was doubled every time he'd find himself adjusting his sweater to make sure it was as flattering as a baggy, well worn, grey sweater could be. It was then that he realized just how unprepared he was for this kind of thing. The last date he had been on, however misguided it had been, was with a complete stranger with whom he had no connection nor really intended to form one. Crass and obnoxious, it was awkward but not so much so that he was concerned terribly of the perception she had, he just had to focus on getting through the night. This was entirely different. He actually wanted to impress someone and he couldn't do it with feats of agility or mental prowess in the field. He was stuck making small talk, which was the worst kind of talk to have to make.

Lucy sat across from him, making light conversation as she did; rattling of anecdotes about some time she had a fry stolen by a seagull and when she ordered that one burger once that had kale instead of lettuce and what an event that nodded along accordingly, offering as polite a smile as he could. She seemed so relaxed, wiggling in her seat, waving her hands as she did every other day. Her hair was loose, bouncy ringlets bobbing from side to side as she moved. The makeup accentuated her features well. It wasn't the subtle, soft hues she wore at the job. No. It was a bit darker, more defined and it all accentuated her facial features expertly. Every ounce of her sweet quirks and pretty face just locked his jaw tighter. He hadn't even brought her flowers. Or the head of her enemy, as one might expect a villain to do.

Not that he'd do that or anything. Unless she wanted i- No! He wasn't a villain anymore. Besides the point, he was fairly sure Lucy Wilde wouldn't have any enemies. Though, in retrospect, if she did they'd probably be the type of person he wouldn't mind removing the head of...

"-right, Gru? Gru, did you hear me?" she asked over her menu, smile beginning to fade. He lifted his head, nodding quickly,

"Oh, yes, yes. Definitely. Mmhm. I totally agree." he hastily replied, the menu all but slammed down in his haste to answer, sounding as guilty as he felt. He knew she couldn't read his mind, but it was a guilty anxiety that clutched at him. Not just for his despicable thoughts but the fact he'd tuned her out completely to focus on them. She chuckled, giving him a patient look from across the table while her hand motioned to the waitress.

"You agree that you are ready to order?"

"Oh, ah.." his eyes lifted to the woman beside the table. "Yes. I know what I want but, ah-" he returned his gaze to Lucy who also had her menu on the table, though with considerably less theatrics. "You go and all that."

"Alright." she replied, looking back up to the woman, "I will have an, uhm.." she whipped open the menu again, scanning it. She flipped a few pages more, muttering under her breath. He watched her, drumming his fingers awkwardly on the table while he and the waitress waited. "Alright! Yes! I am going to have the reuben!" she announced proudly.

"And what side would you like." the waitress inquired cheerfully.

"Side?" Lucy looked like she'd suddenly been given a stack of unwanted paperwork. Clearing his throat Gru tapped onto his own menu.

"I hear that the potatoes are good from a reliable source." he offered, "The vegetables are alright, if you like vegetables. I haven't had much luck with them, but I like them fine." Those green eyes softened, shoulders relaxing at the offered help and she nodded.

"I will take the potatoes, then." she announced. Even her voice was more relaxed. Potatoes had somehow saved the day.

"Would you like white gravy or-" Or not.

"Oh, come on!" Lucy groaned, Gru chiming in quickly.

"Brown! Brown is best, brown." At least Margo always insisted brown was best, anyway. "And I will have the roast chicken with vegetables. No corns." a snerk was heard from across the table, shooting his attention to the woman who was hiding her grin behind a hand. "And water."

"Water for me as well." Lucy supplied, "With lemons, if that's alright." Gru took the menus and stacked them, handing them to the waitress who hastily retreated from the table. Lucy eyed the man, watching him puzzling out just what she had been snickering at.

"Corns." was all she said.

"Yes. No corns. I hate corns." he grumbled, retreating back a bit more from the warmth of the causal exchange they had just had. "Why?"

"It's just… Oh, I don't want to be rude. Nevermind."

"No, what is it? You started it, now finish it. What, you like corns?" he leaned forward toward the table, hands in loose fists settled on either side of the fabric placemat in front of him. She was looking down, sweeping her fingers over the mat before her as if brushing aside some sort of debris.

"Well, first of all, everyone likes corn. Come on? It's like the candy of the vegetable kingdom. Second: Plural." She looked up, face still somewhat downcast. "You say it plural."

Against his wishes he could feel a sudden heat beginning to threaten at his collar. "Yeah." was the cautious return, brows beginning to furrow. "If you haven't noticed, I have an accent." She visibly flinched, teeth digging into her bottom lip and her head bobbed.

"Oh, yes. I know, and it's perfectly fine. It's just.." her shoulders wiggled, a tight smile threatening now only causing his brows to cinch further down, stormy eyes zeroing in. "It's just really cute."

All of the tension he had been feeling was suddenly disintegrated with that one word. 'Cute.' Gru's head lifted from it's hunch, staring at her with wide eyed shock. "I don't… What is so cute about it? It's just a word." he looked left, and then right, suddenly concerned that this conversation wasn't being overheard. The jury was out on if this was a mock or not at his expense.

"How isn't it!" she all but squealed. Her hands folded together on the mat in front of her as she leaned toward him, face illuminated with pleasure. "It's adorable! You call these tiny little golden kernels like they're individuals." her hands came up, then, unweaving to begin acting as if she had a single corn kernel between them. "Tiny little delicious vegetables that, already, are pretty damn cute. Well, I think so at least anyway. You hate them but calling them plural is just so… so…!"

"Cute." Gru supplied in a sardonic tone.

"Yes!" came happily in return, "It really is." one arm crossed before her on the table, her other palm supporting her jaw as she looked across the table to to her male companion fondly, "Really endearing, actually, little quirks like that." her nose wrinkled up a bit as she grinned, "I like your accent."

Gru sat back into his chair, puzzled. The tonal whiplash of their conversations was leaving his head spinning. "I uhm.." there was a moment's hesitation, a smile beginning to tentatively cross his features, "I like your voice, too?" he stated and thought immediately following, 'That only sounded very creepy and entirely unconvincing. Who even says that?'

"Awwh!" Lucy cooed, her smile only extending and eyes twinkling. "So sweet of you to say. It didn't even come out as unsettling as it usually does when men say it. I think it's the accent and your look of utter confusion that helped."

He nodded slowly, rubbing his palms over his pant legs under the table as he tried to conjure up a response. This was not going as he had expected. Every time the tone shifted to a positive, something tumbled it into the negative and he was at a loss. She was watching him now expectantly with that smile on her face. Gru knew that smile, it was a genuine one, but for some reason that only applied all the more pressure for him to him to hurry up and respond.

"Mm." he tried, "I'm glad it wasn't creepy." head bobbing in a nod, a grin forced and body language now rigid and awkward. She responded in turn with a brittle nod of her head, averting her eyes and sitting more upright slowly.

"Yes. I'm glad, too." Lucy stated stiffly, that illumination quickly fading in the awkwardness he had forced upon the table.

The dinner fell into a long silence. The food arrived and the obligatory comments about delicious smells and wonderful qualities followed to punch little holes in the fog of unease that had draped over them like a thick blanket of date terror.

She wasn't even rambling anymore. She never didn't ramble. Granted, tonight she had been rambling more than he was used to whenever he wasn't talking himself but this was on the verge of outright painful. It wasn't the banter and quick wit he remembered them having. Sure, their conversations had been confusing at times but they at least felt right. Was it his doing? He wasn't sure but the persistent ache of his gut and thrum of his heart was telling him that it very well could be. Almost the entirety of the experience felt like one long stint of being trapped mid heist, pinned by some security guard blocking his exit with no other way out; it was both exciting and terrifying.

The meal ended uneventfully and was paid for with some argument over who would be covering the tab until Gru slammed down a relatively sizeable bill onto the little black trey, finally succumbing to the growing tension and falling into his more comfortable bad habits. "And don't come back with tip. Keep it all. It's done." he declared as the waitress hastened to back away from the dreary man who was now casting a look to his date that challenged her to question his will in this.

Lucy stared back at him, lips pursed and cheeks reddened. "Would it have been so hard to let me help with the pay?" she asked sharply. "My money is as good as yours."

"It is a date. I asked you on a date and I pay for the date. That is how things work." he declared with finality.

"So If I asked you out on a da-"

"Then I would still pay." he cut her off, lips tight as he squinted a look at her. "Because I am the man and that is the way it is done." This sent her brows shooting up and into her bright red bangs.

"So you're saying I never get the option of treating you because you're-" her hands came up, crafting air quotes as she did a rather spot on impression of his accent, "da ma-ein." her hands dropped back to the table, "I have a perfectly well suited job to paying bills, Meesta Ma-ein, and I think that is a rather archaic way of thinking."

Gru's arms crossed stubbornly across his chest, back reclined against the chair behind him in his defiant state of cool collection. He wasn't budging. Instead, Lucy grabbed her clutch and popped up and to her feet. Without another word she turned promptly for the door and began to trudge out of the restaurant. Gru was left staring after her, wide eyed and slack jawed. He hadn't expected that.

"Hey. Hey! Where are you going?" Gru called after her, all but tripping out of the chair in his haste. He was zipping up his coat as he stepped into the muggy air just in time to watch her pass by the car and continue down the sidewalk. "Wait!" He hadn't thought it was this bad, not yet at least, but she was entirely finished judging by her speedy gait and how angrily her heels were clicking against the sidewalk.

"I'm going home." Lucy called over her straight shoulders. "Where people go after long silent dinners." Gru stumbled again, tripping over his own feet at such a blunt declaration. So it was that bad.

"At least let me drive you, you don't live anywhere around here." he urged, finally catching up with her and taking long strides to stay at her side.

"No, I'm perfectly fine walking myself, thank you." her nose was upturned, lips pursed, eyes… glassy? He frowned.

"C'mon, Lucy, is this over the bill? I was just trying to do the correct thing I-" he jumped despite himself as she turned her sharp gaze to him. His posture withered some, eyes round as saucers to the severity and frustration he'd found there.

"I'm. Going. Home." she insisted, a slight crack in her voice. Before he could respond she had turned back forward and sped up her pace. Gru gulped thickly, gasping out a desperate breath as he reached a hand out to grab hold of her arm. He was careful not to grip roughly, he hadn't wanted to hurt her, but he needed her to stop and talk to him. She didn't seem to have the same reservations.

Before he could get a word out she had whipped around, a small gun held in her grip that fired a dart directly into the meat of his already scraggly upper leg. Almost instantly the limb went numb sending him toppling face first and into the ground. He heard a 'hmph!' and the resumption of her quick and retreating steps.

Before she was two steps apart from him the coat had already been half unzipped, a hand digging into the barrage of pockets to produce the familiar freeze ray. Taking aim at the sidewalk as best he could from the ground he pulled the trigger. She leapt out of the way of the ray, gasping to the sight of the wall of ice he'd so quickly created in her path. She whirled around on him, fists bunched at her sides.

"We said no gadgets or weapons!" she cried.

Gru pulled his limp leg forward, waving it at her. "Says the woman who _shot me with a tranquilizer dart!_ "

She stomped her foot, raising her voice, "You were being a jerk!"

He had pushed himself to his good foot, bracing himself on a fence and pointing an accusing finger at her, "I was just trying to be a gentleman!" Gru retorted, waving the pointing hand about, "I didn't want you walking across town alone in those needles you call shoes! Look at them! Your feet must be numb by the time you get home!"

She danced in place, a frustrated tantrum of overactive emotions he'd only seen the likes of in Agnes. "I'm fine! My shoes are pretty and my outfit is perfect and everything was supposed to be-" she lifted her glare to him, he who was waiting expectantly and defiantly, but she had run out of all steam. A hand came to her mouth and her brows furrowed in concern. "Oh… Oh, Gru, you're bleeding."

"Yeah, well, I have a dart in me, of course I'm bleeding."

"Not that, you _ass_." she retorted in exasperation, beginning to sidle closer to him, a hand outstretched toward his face. "Your face… Oh, damn it, I hadn't intended to actually hurt you."

To the mention of blood he seemed to come back to himself and took the time to take inventory of his physical situation. His hip hurt, sure, because he'd fallen on it first. Trousers were clearly scraped all to hell but that wasn't new. His free hand came to his face and there he found the problem. That nose of his. The bridge of it was scraped enough that it had nearly gone numb as the body rushed to begin repairing it, now beginning to burn savagely. From his nostril a trickle of blood was beginning to make its warm trek down and over his lip. His cheek and brow had taken a bit of a bruising as well. "Oh. Yeah, that does seem to be the case." the response was neutral as he looked down to his now bloodied fingertips.

A hiccup brought his eyes up in surprise. Her own were pained, tears threatening from the corners and her lips quivering. With all of the anger and frustration gone all that was left seemed to be tears.

"Oh.. Oh, Lucy, no. It's fine, it's fine. Look." Gru ran the back of his sleeve under his nose, coating it with the trickle of blood, "See? All better!" Calling his bluff, more blood began to hastily drip from the nostril.

"It's not that. Oh, Gru, it's not that. I'm sorry." Green eyes rolled up, chest heaving as she tried to fan the tears away, turning from her date to pace a small circle. "I've ruined it. The whole thing. Ugh, I've done it again." Her face fell into her hands, shoulders lifting to hold in the shaking as she tried to sniff and snuffle away the tears.

"No, stop crying. You didn't ruin anything, I swear." Gru hopped on his good foot out as far as he could go while still holding onto the fence for support. His good hand reached out to try to touch her shoulder but she was just out of his reach leaving him stretched across nearly the entire sidewalk to no avail. "I was the one being difficult. I'm useless on these kinds of things."

She turned around to face him, startled by the comical scene and smiling weakly. Tear stained cheeks smote him and he didn't bother to resist the sheepish smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

"A little help?"

With Lucy's help the two of them stumbled back toward the car, flopping unceremoniously onto the floor just inside the tall door and sitting in the dark shadows of the lower level of the vehicle. He could still hear the occasional sniffle while he tried to massage his leg back to life.

"I'm sorry." Lucy murmured, adjusting her skirt over her knees carefully, "I'm sorry that I lost my temper. I just.." a heavy sigh, hands folding over her lap. "I suppose I had expected things to be so easy. Like they have been."

Gru shifted his weight carefully, letting the silence stretch for a moment before responding. "It was pretty easy, wasn't it? Sure, we had our difficulties but…"

"But it didn't matter because it was fun, right? The jabs, the witty flirtation. It was fun."

"I didn't realize we were flirting.." he admitted.

"Oh-ho, casanova, you were definitely flirting." Gru could discern the lift of her features, the sound of her voice betraying her smile. "It was hard to tell, at first, but I figured you out. Mister doom and gloom joking about and finding reasons to get all close."

"What? No! We were just- I was just doing my job! Pfft! Finding excuses! I don't need excuses to do anything." Now it was his turn to smile, amusement blooming between the pair separated by a streak of moonlight across the floor between them. His tone sobered a bit, then. "It was easier before there were… uh.."

"Expectations." Lucy finished for him easily, stating exactly what they both knew the issue had to have been. "I had thought everything was just going to go smoothly. You would be handsome-"

"You don't think I'm handsome?"

"And I would be dressed like a queen and we'd have an amazing dinner, wonderful banter, and maybe go dancing and everything would be so perfect."

"I think I'm handsome..."

"But then I was a dork and ran up to you in your car, and just wouldn't stop talking because I was so nervous."

"Some might say I'm a spitting image of Bruce Willis."

"Then I insulted you, and I knew I shouldn't have mentioned the corn thing. Not after your last date was so rude about the way you spe-"

"Lucy." Gru finally raised his voice, realizing that his attempts to distract her were doing him no good. She quieted down, looking up from her wringing hands and appearing to once again be on the verge of tears. He smiled sympathetically, shuffling toward the lift and managing to get to his feet to begin rising toward the cab of the car. Within no time he had returned, stumbling toward her to sit at her side. "For you."

She looked down to the small, pastel flower covered, plastic bag he offered to her. The bow had been hastily re-tied about it but it was obvious the little gift was filled with candy of all variety. She sniffled, looking back up to him.

"We are who we are." He offered her, quiet and calm, "You're a bit high strung. I have my baggage. I don't think this date worked out." Lucy's fingers gripped onto the bag of treats hastily, shoulders lifting and mouth opening in protest but he lifted a hand to silence her. "But it's not just you. I was nervous, too."

"You were? You just looked annoyed and pissed off all night." Her voice had started off strong, trailing off into a murmur when his lips were pursed, eyes wide in warning for her not to continue.

"Yes, but I wasn't. I was thinking. Sometimes my thinking face is… reportedly scary. Allegedly. I've yet to be given concrete proof on the matter but it's been brought up to me many times this last year." He shifted his weight, facing her more than before. "But that's the thing. I don't think either of us did well, or poor. We just did what we were going to do on a 'first date' All the way down to breaking the gadget rule."

"You knew I wasn't going to follow that."

"As if I was?"

The couple fell into a comfortable fit of laughter, the tension almost entirely relieved. His hand settled upon her cheek, rubbing away some of the tear streaks that had marred her cheeks. Her cheek pressed into his palm indulgently and they both smiled.

"It wasn't the best date. But it was still ours and I am glad to have shared it with you, Lucy Wilde." His words were greeted with a wide smile, her green eyes twinkling in the moonlight. She swept forward, past his hand to settle her own upon his chest to brace her weight as she pressed her lips to his. She lingered there just long enough for him to fall into it, returning the gesture up until the point he felt the sharp stab in his leg near where he'd been shot the first time. He pulled away to stare at her in utter confusion. She was still smiling foolishly.

"The antidote."

The drive home was quiet. Lucy still seemed to be recovering from the impromptu wave of emotions and he was content to stay in his own head, going over the nights events and concreting every detail of that kiss to memory. Every time he would glance toward her she would seem to know, looking up from her candies she was snacking on while they made their way to her apartment. Unlike at dinner, this silence had no intense feelings of dread or impending doom. Unlike at dinner, this silence was comfortable, warm, and right. This sensation of sitting next to Lucy Wilde, was right.

If he had been looking for an encore of their shared kiss in the car he had been mistaken, given merely a tease when her lips instead chose his cheek to cuddle up against. Still, he took it like a man, standing still and appropriately giddy when she smoothed her thumb over the glossy mark her lipstick had left on his skin.

They said their goodbyes and Gru watched her slip into her apartment, her eyes focused on his up to the point in which the door latched shut. The villain turned agent released a contented sigh, his footfalls feeling like he was walking on air as he returned to the car. So much so he could barely feel the needling of his tranqued leg anymore. Just as he was opening the door he heard the slide of a window opening, the familiar voice calling down to him.

"Gru!" Lucy called, her hair spilling down and over her shoulders, her body silhouetted against the warm light of the bedroom at her back.

"Yeah, what?" he called back up to her, turning from the car to watch her lean out and over the sidewalk and out of the window to get a better look at him while keeping a good grip on the window sill.

"I think we should try again! This whole date thing! How about next Wednesday night? I know you're probably busy job hunting, but if you can make the time I have the night off!"

The grin could hardly be contained, such an unfamiliar sensation of butterflies banging against the walls of his stomach had him hastily replying, "Y-Yes! Wednesday would be great! I can do Wednesday! Definitely Wednesday!" She laughed, nodding and waving another goodnight before retreating back into her apartment, window closing behind her.

Gru leapt into the air, giving it a few swift punches as he danced in a small circle on the sidewalk. A second date! All of that and a second date! Nailed it! The girls were going to be beside themselves and he'd have to go and get some new clothes if they were doing dinner again. Thoughts spun through his mind as he climbed into the driver's seat, buckling himself in with a happy hum. Abruptly everything ground to a halt, hands gripping the steering wheel.

"Wait… _Job hunting!?_ "


	3. Spies and Resumes

By mid afternoon he was tired of hearing the dial tone. Long ago the woman had stopped answering his calls, and then resumed stopping answering his calls after the third new number he had disguised his calls with. She had to answer at some point; she couldn't ignore the phone forever.

Gru paced his office, papers strewn across the desk and chair scooted nearly to the wall. The chime of girlish laughter, running feet and minion babbling filtered under the thick wooden door of his office, assuring him the girls were safe and occupied as he waged his phone based war. If he had hair it would be tousled and disheveled with how often he had rubbed his head in frustration with the situation. He couldn't have been fired. Not after everything he'd helped bring down. Lucy had already confessed she had no control over such things, that she had just assumed he'd known and was looking for work.

"I mean… Gru, you haven't been at the AVL for a few weeks now. Didn't you wonder why they weren't calling you for debriefing?" she had asked when he'd called her over lunch to seek a better point of contact. She'd been the only number he'd been given and though he found it rather valuable during their stake out and activities after the assignment it wasn't helping him get in contact with the man he needed: Silas Ramsbottom.

"No I didn't wonder why or I'd have called!" he'd huffed, annoyed at that repeated question, "I've never had a 'real' job before let alone a spy.. Secret agent.. thing! How was I supposed to know I was given the pink slip!" that conversation hadn't been the most fun for either of them.

Gru dropped into his chair, drumming his fingers roughly over the folder he'd begun to fill with numbers and names. The only contact Lucy could help him with was a man named Clark who worked with HR. Clark from HR could only help him to determine why he had been let go, a simple statement being 'Assignment complete. Unsatisfactory work: Do not test.' which only opened more questions. Further inquiries unfortunately had to be forwarded to Janette in the hiring inquiries and testing division of HR. She was on maternity leave. Covering for her was Lysa who spent the first thirty minutes of their call asking Damien around the corner which filing cabinet recent fires would be. By the time he had been able to needle the name of the secretary of Ramsbottom's the morning had been entirely burned and he had a folder full of names, numbers, titles and notes. Each entry was scrawled in a more severe hand, darker and more jagged than the last.

"Pick up, pick up, damn you." he grumbled, slamming his fist on the desk and bellowing, accent heavy and filled with righteous fury, "You can't hold out forever! Answer the damn phone or I swear on whatever God you-"

"I told you that I cannot help you, Mr. Gru! Threatening me will not change that! Good day, Sir!" the woman's voice finally pierced his shouting. Gru tugged himself closer to the desk, hastily trading in the harsh tone for one of civility bordering desperation.

"No! No, please, don't hang up!" he spat out as hastily as he could, "I just need a number. I need a word, something! I need to speak to Ramsbottom, it's urgent!"

"He has made it very clear that he, and the AVL, have nothing more to offer you. He specifically suggested that you look into preserves if the jams and jellies weren't cutting it." The smug tone she had adapted did nothing but fan his temper.

"Listen here, Mrs. Drepspin." he growled, "If you do not give him the phone I will find out where your little hornet's nest of an organization is hiding and smoke him out myself and I will be sure you, Mrs. Drespin, will regret ever ignoring my calls." Over the course of this less than veiled threat he fell into a devious grin, all to satisfied at the prospect of finding some portly elderly woman behind a desk, titter tapping away at her loud old computer with the barrel of his freeze ray pressed against the back of her head.

"Once a villain, always a villain." she replied dryly, "And you wonder why you were not hired on."

Nostrils flared as Gru's face went dark with fury at the words. Fury and an odd sense of shame to his history driving a wedge between him and his potential future. "You don't know me or what I am. I am not a villain anymore! I've reformed!"

"I am sure you have, Mr. Gru, I am sure you-Oh, Director Ramsbottom.. Yes.." A brow lofted as he fell quiet, straining to hear the low murmuring of a man's voice further into the room. "It is, Director. Well, I have but he just keeps calling." Gru brightened a bit as he heard the phone snatched up, the sounds of rustling fabric and receiver manhandling filling his ear.

"Mr. Gru, you know you've been relieved. Why do you insist on making this more difficult?" Silas insisted, tone that of one who was at the end of his patience.

"Because it makes no sense." Gru snapped, scooting his chair under the desk as he braced himself there, leaning over his folder of names and numbers with his fist clenched. "I caught the bad guy. I recovered the serum. I even saved Agent Wilde and brought her back. If that's not a mission success I don't know what is."

"Let me run down the list for you, then." The voice on the other end offered, clearing his throat. "Yes, you brought in El Macho only after he'd already drank the rest of the serum. Yes, that was the _last_ of it. Apparently he had not intended to let it get into the hands of anyone else. So, though you got the bad guy, you only recovered residue, not the serum. That all could have been avoided if you would have _called us_ the moment you had concrete evidence of what El Macho was planning. We would have been able to infiltrate the compound and recover Agent Wilde ourselves."

"You didn't see what he'd done to the minions. You would not have been able to get through that purple wall of twitching, gnashing teeth. I was only able to get that far with my own minions and Dr. Nefari-" he was cut off by a guffaw.

"Ah, yes, Dr. Nefario. Who mysteriously disappeared before we arrived. The man who had orchestrated the science behind the entire thing and should, for all intents and purposes, be behind bars right now for his role in this entire debacle." Gru shifted in his chair uncomfortably, opening his mouth to speak but Ramsbottom continued, his voice growing more clipped the further he spoke. " Not to mention the absolute mess that was left behind with all of that jelly splattered all over any evidence we could have gathered to build a better case. Then we get to the volcano.."

"Hey! The volcano wasn't my fault!"

" _Technically_ , if you were a _competent_ agent you would have been able to, at the very least, damage the rudders or destroy the boosters to send the missile off track to miss the mountain. All of the blue stuff around the island? That would have been a good place to guide it to." There was a pause in the conversation after that. He had been silenced as he tried to recall the moments leading up to, on, and after the rocket made it to the volcano. Could he have done those things if he hadn't been so distracted by Lucy? He had tried at the wiring but it had already been pretty beaten up but…

"I suppose those were possibilities, but in the moment they did not… Did not appear to be viable options." Scenarios began running through his head at lighting speed, trying to find similar situations in his memory.. He didn't make mistakes often, but he also didn't have such distractions in the past. Sure, the minions were incompetent in most situations and he at least considered their wellbeing but he felt no hesitation ordering them around in dangerous situations nor thinking on his feet to accommodate for their blunders. His head was clear.

Huffing out a breath Gru changed the perspective, "Look. You hired me on as a consultant on the project. I was never technically supposed to be put into that situation in the first place." he was gaining speed, now, mind working the angles to better twist the failings from him to Ramsbottom, "Really, if you have listened to me in the first place I was pointing a finger at El Macho from day one. Sure, the salsa thing was a setback but we would have easily found the trail leading to him if someone hadn't have jumped the gun to recover.. what was it? An empty bottle, filled with residu, and as you stated… that's not the same as recovering the serum itself, now, is it?"

Gru settled back into his chair, kicking his heels up onto his desk. He had him now. He'd have to reconsider given the truth in _that._ Instead of the defeated babbling and begging of his pardon he earned an exhausted sigh. A sigh that had any form of triumph that had swelled in his chest to evaporate.

"Mr. Gru we can do this all day but the fact of the matter is between you and Miss Wilde we ended up struggling more than achieving our goals. You were simply supposed to stake out the mall but you and your minions created a great deal of collateral damage. You are the reason El Macho was able to grow so strong, and ultimately only by the sheer luck of his knowing who you were, you bumbled your way to figuring it all out." If his stomach could turn colder he wasn't sure. This was such a familiar conversation.

"So you're saying…"

"I am saying that as a villain, perhaps, this lackluster and destructive performance would be perfectly acceptable but as an agent? We require more finesse, Mr. Gru. More restraint and cunning than what you have displayed. I do not dislike you, Mr. Gru, I simply do not see you as competent for the job." the tone of voice had such finality. The weight of it had the villain thumping back against the back of his chair pathetically.

"I can show you what I can do. I was told there was a test." he tried, keeping his voice civil and straining to not let the disappointment creep into it.

"Either agents directly from academy or people who show exceptional talent are extended that offer. You are neither. Will that be all?"

"You're making a big mistake. I could be a great agent!" he urged though Ramsbottom clearly wasn't interested. The line went dead as the director hung it up.

Gru set the receiver on its cradle slowly, staring at it as if it had betrayed him somehow. That hadn't gone well at all. Not in the slightest and now he was left with nothing for his time. Sure, he had been paid for the work he'd done but with expenses in the lab, typical rent and utilities and then everything to give the girls a good life that money would dry up before he knew it. Villainy wasn't an option, clearly, but it was all he knew. Games of intrigue and devious skill were it. One thing he had realized during the course of the assignment was that these spy games were as close to his old life as he could get and he'd somehow fucked that up. Gru pinched the bridge of his nose as he rested his elbow on the desk, trying to work away the pounding in his head.

"Gru?" a small voice inquired. His attention shot up from his blotter to the three girls and two minions standing in the office threshold. "Is everything okay?" Agnes inquired, already leading the pack across the long room to the desk while he sat more upright to greet them.

"Girls, yes." he assured, reaching down to pluck up Agnes and set her on his knee, attention turning to Margo and Edith as they came closer. "Just a few complications is all. Nothing to worry about."

"So you got your job back?" Edith enthused, brightening up and striking a few ninja poses in her excitement. "Back to fighting crime, kicking butt and saving the world!" Margo smiled at her sisters antics and Agnes bobbed on his leg, clapping happily to the good news.

"Well…" he began hesitantly, drawing out the word as he groped his mind for the right words to say. All attention turned to him with big, round, eyes that demanded answers. Margo was the first to look genuinely worried. She set a hand on the knee Agnes wasn't occupying.

"They didn't have another assignment for you?" she was trying her best to sound mature. Comforting. It was impossible to miss the hitch of worry or, perhaps, fear in her words though. No work means no money and even she knew what that meant.

"No, they ah.. no, they didn't have another assignment for me. They actually…" he looked over the three of them earnestly, frowning as he delicately stated, "They actually don't need me to come back for.. A while, they said." Margo pressed him merely by that stare, her lips tightening and the man losing his resolve to soften the truth, "For...ever."

Two out of the three faces were now worried and fearful while his pink one looked more like she'd been slighted than he had. Agnes tugged on his sweater to gain his attention, her voice a whimper.

"What are we going to do, then? Are you gonna go back to making jelly?"

"Well, that could be an option, yes." he agreed, forcing some enthusiasm for the failed idea into his voice. Edith and Margo made sounds of disgust, sticking their tongues out. He glowered at them playfully, "Oh, come on! They weren't that bad! Nefario worked hard on those recipes." Agnes nodded in agreement.

"Besides! I liked them!" the little girl defended, crossing her arms and standing her ground. Edith scoffed.

"You're not exactly setting the bar high." Edith laughed, Gru holding back a grin himself.

"You -do- like to eat only the tops of your broccoli." his eldest added, nose wrinkled in clear distaste for the stuff.

"Hey! At least she's eating her greens at all! And I agree, the jelly wasn't…" he considered, "Terrible."

Two hands came to his knee where Margo's had once been, giving the slender leg an enthused shake. "Wait! Wait! Does this mean you're going back to villainy?" He looked down to Edith who's smile was bright as the sun. The man resolved to keep an eye on that one or he feared she'd be holding small countries for ransom before she could legally drive.

"No. No villainy of any kind. I left that life behind me and I have no intention of returning to it." lifting Agnes from his lap he set her down in front of him, "I don't want you girls getting tangled up in all of that, it's dangerous and would make for a bad… I don't know, father figure?"

"Tangled up as in not being chased by mutant minions through the house?" Margo asked dryly.

"Or, you know, shooting jelly guns at an army of mutated minions? Super cool, by the way." Edith added, Margo nodding.

"Or having to rush home because we were at a super villain party?" Gru looked down to his youngest who stared back up at him with such sincerity he was wondering if Margo's snark was rubbing off on her a bit too much.

"Et tu, Agnes?" he mumbled dejectedly and all three were suddenly confused. Gru smirked for a moment, shaking his head and standing in one fluid motion. "Anyway, no more villainy. I've given it up." Slipping past the girls he rested one hand at the small of his back, the other lifted and drawing his fingers back and forth over one another in contemplation.

"But!" Edith protested, sending her adoptive father spinning about with a finger pointed to the trio. He bent at the waist, both hands then held before him and motioning with each word.

"I. Said. Enough. We are no longer discussing it. It's o-ver. All done." righting his posture his hands both went behind his back, one cradling the other. "I've written resumes before. I've… never _used_ them, but it can't be that hard to find gainful employment. I mean, come on?" chuckling his devious chuckle he turned from them, striding from the room, "I'm was the world's leading criminal genius! How hard could it be?"

* * *

"How could it be this hard?" A large screen was illuminated in a bustling lab. Gru was draped on the tall bombshell shaped rolling chair at the keyboard, groaning in defeat. He had been looking for over a week now. Submitting his resume to every job he could find. The job hunting site on the screen was covered in green 'Applied' boxes beside an endless column of job listings. Just as many listings blared a bright red 'Rejected.'

"Well." Nefario injected, stepping to stand beside the defeated man. "It could have something to do with…" A quick swipe and tap and the screens shifted, bringing up a long list of offenses under a dour looking picture of his boss. "This." Gru glowered up to the goggled man who merely stared up at the screen. "When you background check a guy and he's wanted in most countries of the world you don't exactly want him in your office making coffee. I mean, come on. Your first major activity was when.." he leaned forward, Gru assuming he was squinting. "You were 8 years old."

"Yes, yes." Gru waved an arm at the computer and the scrolling list of offenses. "But what else was I supposed to do? I was bored! Kids will be kids and when you got rockets, a retired Villain groupie as a mother, and a mind beyond your age you spend your time stealing crowns and statues and sending your neighbors dog into orbit with a bubble gun." a fond smile crossed his lips, "Penny was so pissed when she found out."

Nefario gave the chair a rough shove, the spindle limbed man draped into it flailing and grabbing for purchase. Ultimately he was curled up in the seat, gripping the back and staring up at a looming doctor. "It's in your blood, Gru! You're not a… a…" he looked up to the screen, reading the side window, "Data entry clerk or lab assistant." he said with disgust, waving an arm at the listings as if to shoo them away. Instead he gripped the chair, shaking it, "You are a _villain!_ Dastardly deeds! High profile heists! We never wanted for money just to survive before! Sure, for big projects we took out money from the bank but just to live? Gru, this is embarrassing! And disappointing! You're better than all this."

A quick slap of his hand against the old man's knuckles and he turned about to sit properly in his chair, facing Dr. Nefario stiff backed and glowering. Gru jabbed his pointer into the leather arm of the chair, leaning into the man's space. "I have a family now. I have my girls I need to keep safe and take care of and I can't do that if I'm having to spend hours in the lab concocting new schemes or rushing off for days on end to put them into motion. It won't work." A heavy huff was heaved from his chest as Nefario crossed his arms stubbornly. "I thought I did at least passably at the secret agent thing. I got the bad guy, I saved the damsel, fought a chicken. All the typical 'good guy' tropes. It's the closest I've been to any sort of action remotely like the villainy game since… well.."

"You were a villain." Nefario grumbled in agitation.

" _Yes._ When I _was_ a villain. It was the best of both worlds, action and gadgets but also not out murdering people who are between me and some prize I'm seeking. Leveling cities for the gold stashed underneath. Doing things that would put my girls in danger and ruin their futures by virtue of their association to me."

"They could be villain's to-" Gru abruptly stood, the old man stumbling back to the dark look and ominous presence that radiated from the man.

"Don't suggest it. Don't even think it. And if you plant that thought in any of their heads.." he took a step forward, Nefario nodding.

"I get it. I get it! Jeeze, you still have _that_ going for you." The doctor righted himself as Gru turned back to the keyboard, placing his palms on the desk and resting his weight upon them. "Well.. If you're so determined you could find another spy agency. I know there are more than one."

Gru nodded, reaching over the keyboard and stroking a few of the keys with light pecks of his fingers. Windows appeared, stacked and he swiped each one away. "I contacted all of them that I could trace down. The moment they even heard my voice they started laughing at the concept. Apparently word travels fast so not only am I a villain to them but I'm a bumbling idiot as well." One of his hands began rubbing over his face in exhaustion. "What am I going to do…"

"Give us some orders, at least. You know how they get when they're bored. We're still cleaning up from the ice cream party they had." Gru bristled, eyeing the Doctor.

"Another one?"

"They like Ice Cream."

"No more parties. We can't afford them." Gru stood upright, hands hooking together behind his back and easily slipping into a more comfortable task of assigning duties, rules and commands. "Get Gary, Phill, Corey and Jack to begin making false identities including social security numbers, backstories, college educations, the works. Make sure they know they need to be thorough. Then, tell Bob, Kris, Arthur, Tim, Tom and Travis to gather at least a dozen more between them to begin taking inventory of our remaining loot from the past heists we were saving for a rainy day. If we need to begin selling off our scrap metal then so be it. I want to know what we're working with if things don't look up soon."

Nefario nodded, "And me, Gru?"

Gru paused, tapping his fingertips against the back of his opposite hand."I want you to help me realize a weapon I've been thinking about." his head turned to look down to the shorter man. "Something compact and easy to hide in a pocket." fishing out a red tube accented in gold he handed it over. "Don't destroy it, I want it back in one piece and functioning but for how great it works I'm not fond of the idea of losing it because it slipped out of my pocket while I was paying for groceries or something."

Dr, Nefario took the object, opening it up and looking it over. "It's just a taser." he stated in disappointment, waving it about and looking up to Gru expectantly. "What, you want me to just make a black version and slap the logo on it?"

"No." Gru snapped, reaching into his coat and removing a folded stack of three papers. Shoving it into the Doctor's chest he continued, "I want to improve it. Make it multi-functional. Lock pick, laser, dart gun. Whatever we can manage to fit into it but the name of the game is compact. I want to be able to off a man with a flick of the wrist, Nefario. If that's too much for you…"

"No, I get it." the old man conceded, already poring over the familiar scratched hand of his employer, the drawings intricate and detailed. "This will take me a few weeks but I think I can get you something like what you're thinking."

Gru nodded, turning to leave though pausing and pointing at the man again, "And remember! I want that lipstick back functioning and in one piece. Not even a scratch in the paint." He didn't wait for the old man to respond as he stepped back onto the elevator to return him to the ground level to prepare for bed.

Nefario watched the man go, turning his attention to the screen. Job listings, wanted posters and the sea of 'Rejected,' 'Denied,' 'Blacklisted,' and 'Do Not Hire''s that Gru had made his life over the past few days as the replies to his first wave of applications began to flood in. His eyes dropped to the lipstick and stack of notes and schematics in his gloved hands..

"His sudden sentimentalities are going to ruin us. I just now it"


End file.
